


The Birth of Cain

by chamyl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley is a big softie, First Kiss, Gen, I don't know what tags should go here, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Pining, Screaming Baby, overwhelmed new parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamyl/pseuds/chamyl
Summary: He has to do something, right? Has to. The angel has yet to see the little baby. He would be so sad to know he died after living just a handful of days.Crawly swears in languages that don’t even exist yet and gets down from his tree.~~~Crawly follows Adam and Eve after they’ve been expelled from the Garden of Eden. As Aziraphale is held back to comply with his angel duties, Crawly finds himself all alone watching over the very first humans.Aziraphale might find out there is more than a little bit of goodness in the demon.Crawly might find out there is more than a little bit of wickedness in the angel.





	The Birth of Cain

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: some bits about childbirth and blood. Nothing extremely graphic, but I’m giving you a heads up in case that kind of thing bothers/triggers you.

“So,” Crawly looks at the line of the horizon in front of them, where Adam and Eve disappeared some time ago. The sky is clearing above their heads. “Should we follow them?”

Aziraphale takes in a deep breath. “Most likely. For me, that is. My directives were to guard the Gate, then guide the new humans on the path of Virtue.”

Crawly sniggers at that. “Right.” He kicks a small stone off the wall, watches it drop and land in the sand. “Off we go, then.”

Aziraphale nods, takes a step forward, then frowns. “Oh, actually… I can’t. I almost forgot. There are several things here I need to take care of before I leave. I’m supposed to close the hole in the wall, for a start. You go ahead.”

Crawly shrugs, then steps out of the shadow of Aziraphale’s open wing. He briefly debates whether to thank him, and decides against it. He extends his own wings, readying for flight.

“See you when you’re done.”

Aziraphale gives him a tense smile, and Crawly leaps off the wall.

* * *

The humans travel for weeks, looking for a hospitable place to live. They’ll never find anything like the Garden of Eden. But, after a while, they do find a forest. There’s a reasonable amount of game to hunt, and the trees provide some shelter from the rain. At night, they light up a fire, and sleep among animal hides for warmth.

Eve’s belly gets bigger and bigger as time goes on. Crawly knows the terms and conditions of human life, in theory. It’s very different to see it happen in front of his eyes. _‘In pain you shall bring forth children’_ and all that nonsense. As expected, little by little, it becomes harder for Eve to walk long distances, to get food by herself, even to sleep.

When she becomes so heavy that standing for any length of time is difficult, Adam takes care of her for the most part. So he’s out all day, hunting and foraging for two. He comes back every night and they lie together by the fire. The demon can’t help but think they are ridiculously vulnerable to wild animals, storms, and whatever else is in Her plan to hit them with.

Crawly watches over them, often lazily sprawled on a branch. He’s bored out of his mind, he has nothing to do except spy on them. He sees them holding each other, kissing. Sometimes, less innocent things happen. He quickly decides that there's really no need to stare, and when it happens he generally turns the other way. Something about it makes him uncomfortable. He’s a supernatural being and shouldn’t be bothered by it, and yet. He sets that thought aside for now – there will be millennia to think it over. Possibly it has to do with the body he's been given and its weird characteristics. 

Then, one night, the wailing begins. He’s woken up from his nap by Eve’s cries. She’s holding her belly and breathing hard. Adam doesn’t really know what to do, he holds her when she lets him, pulls her hair back and away from her damp forehead every now and then. But he’s, all in all, pretty useless.

Crawly watches from his hiding spot, brow furrowed. That sounds like it hurts like hell, if her shouts are any indication. The worst thing is that it goes on for hours upon hours. By the time the sun begins to rise, Eve is exhausted, resting on her hands and knees, face drenched in tears and sweat. Then, finally, she gathers herself into a crouch, and Crawly hears a wet sound, sees a small shape falling into the soft grass.

His eyes go wide when he hears the new human cry with all the force its tiny lungs allow. It’s covered in blood and God knows what else, but Adam picks it up as Eve lies down. He lays it on its mother’s chest, then gets some water to clean them off.

The small human calms down after a while. He reaches out for Eve’s breasts, and she tucks him closer, beginning to feed him.

Crawly is both repelled and amazed. He’s never seen anything like that, in Heaven or in Hell. When God creates a new angel, the process is clean, beautiful, glorious. But then he looks down again and sees Eve finally smiling as she cradles her new baby in her arms.

Humans really are something else.

* * *

He thought it’d be easier for them from then on. He was wrong.

It really is a messy, dirty affair to be a mortal. The baby is a tiny agent of chaos. He’s constantly generating noise and requiring to be cleaned multiple times a day. After the birth, Eve is weak. A little less every day, but she also looks more and more exhausted as time go by. She’s alone most of the day, and now she also has to take care of the smaller, angry human. Adam leaves the flaming sword Aziraphale gave them with her to protect herself. But this makes his days of hunting longer and more dangerous.

Crawly keeps a watchful eye over them.

On the tenth day after the birth, the baby wakes up before dawn, wailing. He keeps crying and crying and _crying_ until Crawly is tempted to throw a banana at him. As per usual, as soon as the sun rises, Adam leaves, this time with a worried look on his face.

Nothing is able to calm down the baby. Not being fed, not being rocked, not being sung to. He just has _something_ , but God only knows what that something is. More importantly, he’s disturbing Crawly’s ability to snooze in a patch of sunlight.

When the newest human falls asleep, it’s only for half an hour naps. Then he’s back at it with the screaming and kicking and getting so red in the face it looks like he’s about to explode.

The day is long, and when night falls Adam doesn’t come back. If Crawly had to guess, he’d say he couldn’t make it back before the dark and decided to stop somewhere and wait for the dawn. Eve starts a fire, anxiously staring at the shadows around her. Her stomach rumbles, but what is she going to do, leave the baby by the fire and go look for food in the dark? The smell of blood is all over her, and there are many hungry animals around. She only feels safe because she keeps the flaming sword on a charred spot on the ground next to her.

She huddles under the animal hides with her screaming baby, and Crawly would like to leave. He really, really wants to rest his ears – but he finds he can’t. For some reason, he has a hunch that something terrible will happen if he stops watching.

Maybe it’s the angel’s fault. Getting himself in trouble like that, giving away his sword. Risking his place in Heaven. Making the humans seem important, and deserving of protection. Going above and beyond (and against) his angel’s duties. Crawly can’t see what that has to do with him, though, and why he would feel this weird sense of obligation.

He sighs, resigned to spend another sleepless night. He doesn’t technically need to sleep, after all.

It’s somewhere between midnight and dawn when he hears the baby cry again. He glances down, and Eve is staring at the child – staring right through him, actually, as if he wasn’t there at all. Slowly, she sets the baby down on the naked ground. Then, she backs away, walking around the fire and sitting down on the opposite side of it. She brings her knees up to her chest and sobs.

_Uh oh_. That’s not good. Crawly watches them, eyes darting from the baby to his mother. Minutes go by, and she doesn’t come back to pick him up. The baby screams his little head off until he stops. Crawly sees Eve wrapped in furs and realizes he must be very, very cold. It’s just a tiny creature, for Heaven’s sake.

This is not good. This is the opposite of good. This is very, very bad.

He looks over his shoulder. But he knows that if someone were watching, he wouldn’t be able to see them in the darkness. He has to do something, right? Has to. The angel has yet to see the little baby. He would be so sad to know he died after living just a handful of days.

Crawly swears in languages that don’t even exist yet and gets down from his tree.

He makes sure to alter his body so that Eve would recognize him as a human female. Then, he approaches.

He goes to the baby first. He picks him up, and the small thing begins screaming again. Crawly wraps him in a blanket he just made out of thin air. He rocks him in a way that, he imagines, would calm him down. It takes a while, but then, magically, the tiny human stops crying. Finally.

Next, he goes to Eve. She’s been watching him get the baby and approach, tears streaming down her cheeks. It’s a despair Crawly can recognize – being all alone, not knowing what to do. She’s literally the first woman, it’s not like she can ask someone else what she’s supposed to be doing.

“Angel…” She calls when she sees him approach, in a language as old as time. Crawly doesn’t correct her. It’ll be easier for everyone if she thinks he’s something like Aziraphale, who gave them the flaming sword. He is, after all, just here to help.

It remains to be seen who will help _him_ if Hell finds out.

* * *

It takes him four tries.

The first time he tries to give back the baby, Eve breaks into sobs. He sits down in front of her, the baby quiet in his arms, and waits.

The second time he holds the baby out for Eve to take, she shakes her head. She covers her face in her hands, crying into them. As he lets out a sigh, he looks down to see the baby’s minuscule hand wrapped around his finger.

The third time, he scoots closer to her, shows her the baby is perfectly fine, calm and sleeping now. She almost reaches for him, then pulls back at the last moment, turning away. Crawly lies down on the ground, the baby on his chest, a hand on his tiny back to keep him warm.

He’s woken up by the rustling of grass beside him. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but the sun has dawned. Eve is looking down at him. She seems to be doing a bit better, maybe she’s slept a few hours too. The baby is peacefully snoring on his chest. Slowly, he pulls himself up into a sitting position, and holds the small human in his long fingers for her. She takes him.

“Thank you, angel.” She says, finally hugging the baby to her chest. Cain stirs, immediately latching onto a breast. “It will be easier, knowing someone is watching over me.”

Crawly nods, and, again, doesn’t correct her. Someone _will_ be watching over her. It just won’t be him.

As he walks away, he hears Adam’s voice, urgently calling for Eve as he makes his way back to her.

* * *

He decides he’s earned a day off, and takes a walk around until he finds a nice, big tree that casts shade all around it. The ground beneath it is soft and mossy. The perfect place for a snake to rest his tired limbs – if the snake in question does have limbs. Which he does, and they’re very tired.

As he settles down, he sees Aziraphale approaching.

“That was very selfless of you.” He says, sitting down next to Crawly.

“Shut up.” He thinks it over for a few seconds, racking his brain for an excuse. “Have you seen the small human? It’s clearly evil. I only did it to help it.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale smiles at his frown, and they look at each other. Crawly could swear the angel is radiating something – something warm and bright, like sunlight, or fondness. He decides that’s just what Aziraphale does to the air around him. No need to read too much into it. The angel puts a hand on Crawly’s knee, leaning closer. “Still. It was very kind.”

Well, now he’s almost glad he did it.

“T’was not.” He croaks out, but it’s becoming harder to deny. His eyes dart to the angel’s lips for a split second, then back up to meet his gaze. “Stop saying it, I’m in enough trouble as it is.”

It’s Aziraphale turn to frown. “Will you be punished?”

“Most likely.” He rests the back of his head against the trunk of the tree. “I’ll just have to come up with a very good excuse.”

“I can help.” Aziraphale offers immediately. “Let me think…”

Despite himself, Crawly has to repress a smile. There’s no way this soft, kind angel could come up with anything—

“They are much more vulnerable with a baby around, aren’t they?” Aziraphale asks. “It’s significantly harder for them to survive. And the harder their life, the more they are likely to turn to sin.”

Crawly’s heart skips a beat it technically doesn’t need in his chest.

“Makes sense. Yes.” He blinks, studying the lines on Aziraphale’s forehead as the angel thinks it over.

“Or, you could say you did it to gain my trust. To fool me.”

“Did I?” And now it’s Crawly leaning a little bit closer, not unlike a snake about to pounce, a smirk on his face. “Gain your trust?”

“You’re a demon, I don’t think you can do the right thing.” Aziraphale quotes back at him. The way he says it, with an eyebrow raised and the hint of a subtle smile on his face, has a weird effect on Crawly. The back of his neck begins to tingle.

“Doesn’t answer my question.” He lets out a exaggeratedly dramatic sigh. “Ah, poor me. Whatever shall I do.” He says, deadpan, not sounding worried at all. “I will be thrown in the deepest pit and never see the light of day again.”

“That’s not a possibility, is it?” Aziraphale asks, voice suddenly strained.

“Well…” He was joking, but. “It is. It’s fine, I’ll come up with something.”

“Tell them you have my trust.” He gives Crawly’s knee a squeeze, making goosebumps raise all the way up his thigh. “I can pretend.”

Crawly wets his lips with the tip of his tongue in a way he hopes is inconspicuous. The way Aziraphale’s eyes glance at his mouth tells him it was not. “Can you, angel? Could you deceive someone like that?”

“If it’s for a good cause, it is not a deception. It’s barely a lie at all.”

“Say it, then. Say you trust me.” He hears the eagerness in his own voice and quickly tries to tone it down. “For practice.”

Aziraphale clears his throat. He glances around them, and only speaks once he’s sure they’re completely alone. Even then, it’s barely more than a whisper. “I trust you, demon Crawly.”

“Hm. I’m not convinced.”

“I-I trust you, Crawly.” This time, the angel’s voice is stronger, but shaky.

“Not good enough.”

Aziraphale takes a deep breath. “You helped the humans putting yourself at great risk. It was generous, and charitable, and dangerous.” He locks eyes with Crawly. “Therefore, I have no choice but to trust you, Crawly.”

This time, it sounds almost earnest. Crawly realizes his lips are parted in surprise. Then, Aziraphale gives him a smile that is equal parts angelic and diabolic. “How was it?”

Crawly catches his own hands twitching at his sides. It takes him a second to reply. “Better. Still wouldn’t buy it, though.”

“I don’t know what else I could do to convince you.”

Crawly feels sparks dancing in his stomach. It’s elating. His mouth feels dry, his ears hot. “Do you really not?”

“I have not one clue what you’re going on about.” Despite his words, Aziraphale is leaning closer still. “But I suppose it is my duty to reward good behaviour.”

Crawly becomes, in that instant, overwhelmingly aware – of everything. Of the soft, cool, damp moss under his hands and body. Of the rough bark he’s resting the small of his back against. Of the early morning light filtering through the leaves, of the birds singing over their heads, of the breeze gently shaking the branches. Of the aura of warmth emanating from the angel, thick and strong and gentle at the same time.

Aziraphale has closed the distance between them, lips against lips as he whispers, “I trust you.”

It’s a chaste, brief press of one mouth against another, but it sets Crawly on fire. It’s all he can do to try and school his expression into something less stunned, less awed. Aziraphale is pulling back, and the demon can’t have that on his face. He can’t look like someone who just found out something utterly life altering.

“Yes… that works.” He utters huskily.

Aziraphale is looking at him with an innocent smile. “See, I _can_ be quite convincing when I set my mind to it.”

The sly, beautiful bastard. Crawly nods, swallows.

“Well, then.” The angel stands up, shaking leaves off his white vest. “I’ll leave you to your sleep.”

With a flutter of wings, he’s gone. Crawly exhales.

Fucking hell. How do humans know what this feels like and not spend every single minute doing it? And it was just a crumb. Barely a kiss, really. No one could accuse the angel of having sinned. Fraternized with the enemy, sure. But, Crawly has a hunch Aziraphale could well retort that he was ‘rewarding good behaviour’. Which _is_ in his job description.

Either way. There is no way he could fall sleep now.

What a sweet, agonizing punishment this is.

* * *

Almost a millennium later, he gets a letter of commendation. Cain turned out to be an awful man who murdered his own brother. He lived an extremely long, hateful life and spread his evil descendants all over the world.

Maybe Aziraphale was right. Maybe, being a demon, he really can’t do the right thing, even if he tries.

And yet. He watches the drunk, vulnerable angel, sleeping contently. They spent the night drinking and chatting in the demon’s humble home by the Nile. Then, Aziraphale passed out. So, by the looks of it, he’s going to accidentally spend the night.

If nothing else, Crawly is convinced of one thing. Aziraphale does trust him. Whether he’s ready to admit it to himself or not.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write Crowley comforting a new mother and holding a baby. Guilty as charged. I’m going to go ahead and put myself in fan fiction jail.  
> 


End file.
